CHAPTER 254: I CHOOSE LIFE

In the candlelight, she read over the letter, over and over again until she could recite the words by heart. She clutched the edge of the paper until it was damp from her sweaty palms.

She placed the paper gingerly on the desk and guided her index finger across the paper, underneath every line. Serena looked away briefly and exhaled.

"Well played, Riven," she murmured.

She folded the paper neatly and placed her forehead on the desk and sighed. The woman squeezed her eyes shut and whispered a few thoughtful prayers to the goddess.

"I may not be the best of your children you have put on kaldora but I still come as your humble servant to ask for wisdom to navigate this treacherous situation." Serena lifted her head and blinked slowly before she continued in her prayer. "This is a trap set for me and Ironshade may fall as a result and...and I will lose my life."

Her lower lips trembled and she bit on it to control herself. The words that she had been avoiding all this time fell from her lips, left naked to the reality of it all. Serena would lose her life.

This time it was her in the snow, heart banging against her chest, limbs trembling violently looking into the stone cold amber eyes of another wolf. No, she wondered... would it be at the hand of that woman who called herself Charlotte? It could be General Silas himself, maybe even Livia who made her share the sins of the ones who had killed her parents before her... maybe even the Delegate as an honour to Ironshade.

Her fingers curled around her neck and she squeezed the sides lightly. These days it felt like every word she spoke was the difference between life and death.

’ I choose life,’ Feyra said, slithering out of her numerous slumbers.

Serena gasped like she had been holding her breath for a few seconds too long. "I also choose life."

’Liar,’

Serena kept silent for a few seconds before she reclined in the chair. "You can not say that, it is hard.. But I do choose life."

’If I, your most bosom companion, find it difficult to tell if you choose life...then how will others around you?’

Serena sat in stillness, her hands folded tightly in her lap, her gaze cast to the candle flame trembling on her desk. The silence pressed in upon her, heavy, suffocating, yet her mind whirled all the faster for it.

Only dead fish go along with the flow.

The thought rankled, and her lips parted as if to speak a retort aloud, yet no sound came. She knew it was true. She had been carried from one tide to another, exiled by Silverstone, received by Ironshade, seated among councils, feigning calm when her heart seethed, praying each day that she might not be cast upon the rocks. Always answering, never commanding. Always yielding, never daring.

Her breath trembled as she pressed her palms flat upon the desk, feeling the coarse grain of the wood beneath her fingertips. "Have I been so weak," she whispered, "that even my wolf has grown weary of me?"

’Weakness is not what I said,’ Feyra answered quickly, her voice low. ’But drift too long and you will wash up on a bank no soul will claim. They will bury you shallow. They will not mark your grave and none shall remember you were here.’

The words sank deep, striking at the marrow of her fears. Serena closed her eyes against the sting, yet the tears came unbidden. She saw, in her mind’s cruel theatre, a mound of snow over her still body, no stone raised, no name called, no mourners gathered. Left there to be forgotten and erased.

Her breath caught, but Feyra pressed further, relentless.

’You forget your brother. Do you not recall the promise you made him? That you would return to Silverstone whole? That you would stand with him when the burden grew too great? Do you forget the pups who looked to you with bright eyes and begged you to stay, and you, foolish heart, told them you would watch them grow? Will you betray them now?’

Serena pressed a shaking hand against her mouth, muffling the sob that threatened to escape. Their face surfaced in her mind’s eye, her brother’s lined with strain, yet softened when he looked upon her. The children of her kin, small and eager, clinging to her skirts with trust too pure for this world. She had promised. She had sworn.

"I have been silent," she murmured, voice raw, "for far too long. I let myself drift because it was easier than fighting. I said yes when I should have spoken no. I smiled when my heart was breaking."

The flame on the candle sputtered, steadied again. Serena drew a long breath through her nose and sat straighter, her fingers no longer trembling.

"No more."

Her wolf stirred, quiet now, yet the satisfaction hummed through their bond like the deep toll of a bell.

Serena’s gaze fell upon the folded letter lying where she had left it, Riven’s elegant script taunting her. She lifted it once more, held it to the candle flame, and did not flinch when the fire caught. The parchment curled, blackened, turned to ash. She watched until the last ember died, until nothing remained but grey fragments upon the plate.

"This is not your move to make, Riven," she said softly.

Drawing her chair closer, she set fresh parchment before her, dipped her pen into ink, and let the words spill forth.

—

To the Honourable Delegate of Dawnbreak,

Riven of esteemed house,

I pray this message finds you in fair health. Your words, delivered with such courteous flourish, have been received with due regard. You speak of curiosity, of private conversation, and of satisfaction to be had in the company of Crimsonclaw.

Permit me to assure you, sir, that such satisfaction is a grace we may yet grant, for it is not unseemly that guests upon another’s land should seek acquaintance. However, it must be said, such requests are better directed to myself. Alpha Darius Hawthorne, receives what is owed to him by right of his station, yet I am the one tasked with matters of diplomacy in my domain such as this. In such matters, all correspondence henceforth may, and indeed should, pass through my hands.

You are most kind to seek my presence, and though my duties weigh upon me, I will see fit to humour your request. We may meet, should the circumstances be proper, and I shall endure the curiosity which presses upon you. Consider it a generosity, one extended for the sake of fellowship between our peoples.

Thus, you may rest assured, Ironshade will not suffer neglect in matters of honour. Yet remember, Delegate, honour demands its proper channels. From this hour onward, you shall find me ready to receive what words you would speak, and to answer them with all the civility that Crimsonclaw and her ambassadors afford.

In faith,

Serena, Ambassador of Crimsonclaw

—

When she set her pen aside, Serena read the letter over, her eyes narrowing faintly at her own words. It was not anger that had guided her hand, nor false sweetness. She sealed it with wax, pressed the mark, and felt, at last that she had placed one stone of her own upon the path.

No, she thought as she blew out the candle, watching smoke curl upward into the chamber. She would not drift anymore.